


the thunder hurried slow;

by Runime



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (its just one fish that dies but not really bc everything is a dream), Angels, Angst, Animal Death, Brotherhood, Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent, Changing Pronouns for Raphael (Supernatural), Gen, Reconciliation, The Empty (Supernatural), feat. the archangel that died and never went back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:49:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26491432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runime/pseuds/Runime
Summary: When Castiel goes to the Empty, he doesn't wake up immediately.Instead he meets an old enemy (or perhaps, a forgotten brother).
Relationships: Castiel & Raphael (Supernatural)
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For your reading pleasure:
> 
> "A Thunderstorm" by Emily Dickenson at http://www.online-literature.com/dickinson/462/

Castiel felt frozen. Somewhere cold and too small for his true form.

At first he thought he was in some sort of mist. His mind was hazy and his vision blurry. For a second, he thought he heard the voices of his brethren echoing from somewhere beyond. Their songs somber and low.

But his siblings were dead, and the sounds too faint to make out owner or meaning.

_Castiel._

There was a different kind of voice though, and it was calling out to him specifically. It was saying something, but he couldn’t understand it. Earnest and pleading — begging almost. But just like the rest, he couldn’t tell who was seeking him. He couldn’t remember where he was or what he was doing either. The mist existed both outside and inside his mind, blocking him from everything else.

_Castiel!_

It was only that one voice that grounded him. The only thing that seemed real and substantial. So he reached for it, and the world started to take shape.

“Castiel!” The first thing he noticed was _Dean._ He felt a rush of relief that Dean at least looked okay. Then he noticed the figure right besides the man.

 _Bobby._ It was the Winchester’s stubborn father-figure.

Castiel couldn’t remember _how_ or _when_ , but he knew that the man was supposed to be dead.

There was something terribly wrong here.

“Dean!” Castiel called out, and after a moment’s hesitation, “Bobby?” But neither figure turned towards him. Terror rushed through him as he realized that he couldn’t move from his vantage point.

And his horror grew even more when he realized who they were looking at.

There was a figure wearing his face, looking prideful and _insane_.

…Why? Why did this scene feel so familiar?

 _“_ NO! Dean, Bobby! That’s not me!” He chocked out, but neither heard him.

Luckily, the fake-Castiel wasn’t looking at his friends, but at another pair of figures.

Crowley and Raphael stood opposing fake-him. Behind them is a wall with an array made out of blood. At the sight of it, the image of purgatory popped into his head.

He didn’t understand. Both of them were supposed to be dead as well. This was an illusion. A dream of some kind. All of them here were impostors. Dean was the only one that could be reasonably real ( _alive_ ), and he couldn’t hear Castiel.

Crowley, fled the scene. The fake-Castiel had let him go.

But when Raphael tried to do the same, she’s stopped.

With a sinking feeling in his gut, Castiel knew exactly what will happen next.

He watched the fake-Castiel raise his hand and then _snapped._

But Raphael didn’t explode into blood and guts. Instead she turned to him — the real him watching everything in absolute terror — and asked, “Do you regret this moment, Castiel?” A cynical, scornful smile graced her face.

Around them, Dean, Bobby and the fake - Castiel were frozen in time. Castiel stared at them in worry, then narrowed his eyes at her. “Who do you think you are? Unfreeze them!”

“Did you actually want to see yourself kill _me again_? You’re even crueler than I remember.”

“Who are you?” Castiel could only stare at her in suspicion.

“Do you not recognize your own brother? And after I took the effort to appear to you in the form you last saw me.” And suddenly, all his memories came rushing back. At the same time, the ice in his muscles melted, only for him to collapse to the floor. The scenery around them started to waver and distort. He casted a pained glance at his human companions before they dissolved into the darkness, leaving nothing but him and the archangel.

_Leviathans… becoming god… betraying his family…_

And that was just the start of it.

Breathing heavily, he looked up.

“Raphael? - that’s impossible. You’re dead.” He gathered himself up, clenched his fists and stood up ready to fight, though he had no defense against his former arch-enemy.

“Yes, we’ve established that.”

“Then how…?” More and more, memories where rushing into his head. Images of death and betrayal were making him nauseous and heavy hearted. Except he didn’t have a beating heart anymore, didn’t he?

Raphael gave a impatient sigh. “Haven’t you caught up yet?” She walked a little ways from him, and the world started to establish its self around her with each step.

… _I’m dead as well,_ Castiel suddenly realized.

The scene, like before, was incredibly familiar. It was the extravagant home of an opulent man that somehow got into heaven. It was also where he had once sat down to talk with Raphael in an attempt at peace, only for Raphael to beat him up and order him to submit before her.

“Welcome to the Empty.” Raphael’s voice was mocking. She sat down gracefully on the armchair, relaxed and uncaring even as Castiel’s world fell apart before her. “And before you get any ideas, this death will stick. There’s no chance of God bringing you back again.”

And that was enough to shock Castiel back to the present. Somehow, he too was sitting across from her. _No,_ he thought, _there’s got to be away._ _Jack — I promised I’d take care of him! Sam and Dean are waiting as well!_ He focused himself towards the present. “This doesn’t exactly look like nothingness,” he growled through gritted teeth.

“Can’t you tell? You’re dreaming, Castiel.” Raphael was acting surprisingly patient. “ ‘In the Empty, Angels are laid to rest.’ It just so happens that being asleep allows us to have quite the vivid dreams.”

Castiel vaguely remembered something like that. From a lesson or a tablet or a teacher back when he was just a young fledgling. Dreams in the Empty were that of one’s miseries and regrets, which explained the scene earlier. The start of perhaps the worst period of his life — one that never really ended. “That doesn’t explain _you_ being here.”

She raised a single eyebrow. “There’s no need to be so hostile. Or is there some reason you’re so opposed to my presence?”

Castiel gripped his armrests. Memories of their war flashed across his mind. Even now in death, it seems, Raphael still kept on her mask. Playing the dutiful and harmless older sibling while looking down on him and plotting to stab him in the back. “Forgive me if you don’t _remember_ ,” he shot back, “but our last meeting wasn’t exactly the most pleasant. I wouldn’t surprised if you planned to somehow take your revenge on me.”

Raphael made no movement, but Castiel suddenly had the impression of her rolling her eyes. “We’ve already settled the score, haven’t we? I killed you, then you killed me. Now the world’s gone blind.” Raphael, as far as Castiel remembered, was never the joking type. But he also knew that she wasn’t the type to spend her time visiting lower-ranking angels for small talk.

So Castiel remained unconvinced.

“We’re both dead, you fool,” she finally snapped at him.

“And you decided to spend your afterlife harassing me.” He finally leaned back and couldn’t help but look around again. This place was exactly like he remembered it.

“Do you still think that I would waste my time doing something as petty as that?”

When he next looked at Raphael, he was using the form of his male vessel, Donnie Finnerman, again. Castiel tilted his head in confusion.“I don’t know what it is you want, but it can’t be good.” He narrowed his eyes. ”Then again, I don’t think you have the power to do much - to do worse,” He clarified. Angels weren’t supposed to have power in the empty, yet Raphael seemed to have some sort of control over these dreams. Was it because he was an archangel, or was it something Castiel could learn and do himself?

He was already making plans: first escape Raphael, then figure out how to get back to the living.

“Is that really all you can come up with?” Raphael glared at him, and stood up abruptly. “That I would waste effort to find you and give you consciousness for something as petty as revenge?” And the world shifted, the ground quite literally disappearing from beneath his feet.

And Castiel suddenly realized that he had, once again, pissed off an archangel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, I never actually watched Supernatural before. I basically learned everything I know from destiel fics and random clips on youtube. So I blame any vagueness/mistakes over that :P 
> 
> Idk if Raphael changes pronouns when they change vessels in the show, but its my headcanon now. I mean, if they had the ability to change form/gender to their whims I feel like they would. If nothing else, than just to show-off.
> 
> I already have most of the fic finished, and my original plan was to post this as a one-shot, but I has having trouble with the middle portion for so long that I got frustrated into posting something. The poem I mentioned (and what the title is from) is more relevant in later portions. Let me know if there's something overly wrong, and I'll change it.


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel cursed himself as he tumbled around in space. The actual vastness of space. He felt his human form become weightless as he spun around between the unnamed stars.

"Tell me Castiel, what did you expect your afterlife to be?" The harsh words _boomed_ around him, echoing through emptiness and disappearing towards the backdrop of distant galaxies.

Raphael is the size of a white dwarf, and ten times as bright. They're a bundle of wings, shifting and phasing through one another. Iridescent feathers hiding a beak of divine power. And light pulsing steadily like a heart beat.

Raphael is a bird of prey, and Castiel is grasped firmly between their livid claws.

"Did you expect some sort of heaven because you were once a human? Waiting for your precious mud-monkeys to join you?" Raphael spat out that last sentence with disgust.

It's like being trapped inside a ball of holy fire — the heat pressing in on all sides. Castiel would have suffocated if not for the fact that he was already dead.

"Take a moment for self reflection, Castiel," Raphael continued. "After all the things you've done, were you really expecting some sort of happy ever after?"

He winced, but fury soon shook through him. "I've made mistakes, yes, but unlike you - I've done my best to make up for them."

"It's hilarious what you consider as penance. Or perhaps you were only looking for redemption in the eyes of your humans by locking out all the angels and reducing the Host to a shell of its former glory?"

He flinched. That happened long after Raphael's death. How did Raphael even find out about that? Did they somehow find a way to view the living world from the Empty? "I never intended for that to happen," He defended himself.

"Cry your heart out Castiel, It means nothing when you're perfectly fine killing angels again and again. It's been a while for you, but I hope you still remember the bloody war you waged against Heaven."

Castiel narrowed his eyes. He remembered that it took two sides to fight war. "Don't you dare condemn me for that, Raphael, when you, _personally_ killed more angels during that than me." Not to mention, they had never cared about those that fell under their blade before. "Yes, were fighting a war! A war you forced when you tried to make submit to you rather than listening to what we had to say!"

Castiel's words failed to leave a mark on the shimmering sphere of fury. "You accuse me of hypocrisy, but I've always treated all my enemies the same. You however, have killed our brothers when they go against you all the while allowing the Winchesters multiple opportunities to stab you in the back." His claws jabbed into Castiel's back, causing him to grit his teeth in pain. "Again and again _and again_."

"Of course I would! They're humans. You and the rest of the host forgot, but we had a _duty_ to humanity. We were commanded to serve them. To _protect_ them. To love them!"

Castiel squirmed and struggled to break out. But Raphael didn't even shift their grasp. Theoretically, he should also have some sort of control in these dreams, but even here he was outclassed.

"Love?" They scoffed at him. "Are you claiming your actions were made out of love? Are you even aware of what kind of love you're claiming to have? Killing other angels is love? No, even the rest of humanity rarely benefited your actions, so how could I expect you care about the Host? That 'love' you say you have — I've only ever seen you offer that 'love' to the Winchesters, groveling at their feet. And the 'love' you claim _they_ have, well — " They leaned close to his face. "I can't quite remember _you_ receiving it."

The pain at his back was nothing compared to how Raphael's words just now dug at old wounds and ripped them open. At old longings and regrets. He was running out of air, out of excuses. His poor imitation of a soul was laid bare before the archangel, every action and word he thought was the right choice now used against him in judgment.

He slumped down, tears threating at the corners of his eyes. Raphael's glare pierced through him a thousand times.

"Haven't you gotten tired of it?" They asked after a moment, voice dipping low. "You've been trapped in a never-ending cycle. Each apocalypse you try to stop just starts another one. I should have just waited patiently until you three broke the world in attempting to save each other."

Castiel forced himself to breathe. Or rather, he imitated the movements, and though there was no air here, he didn't need it. Because even before he died, he was an angel and not a human. "I suppose you're right. Half the problems we have we're made because no one wanted to sacrifice anyone for the greater good." Castiel steeled himself. "But that's still better than Heaven acting so far removed from it all."

Once upon a time, Castiel remembered, angels were warriors that stood for something.

Now, Raphael was barely an adversary. They just wasting his time. Right now Castiel could be trying to find a way out. To unravel the mystery of this place and get back to Jack, Sam, and Dean. But instead he was stuck here to someone that seemed content to waste his time. The two of them have fulfilled nothing but shout at each other.

Its strange actually, despite the writhing mass of wrath that was the archangel right now, Raphael only held him without attempting to do worse. Even the talons at his back have not even cut through his coat.

Castiel stared through their intertwined feathers for the multitude of keen eyes watching him. Just now, he saw how tightly their wings were actually wrapping around theirself, twisting and turning. As if Raphael was struggling to hold themself up as well. "But Sam and Dean never gave up on each other, and whatever they did, they did out of love. And I find that far more admirable than the actions you archangels took."

It wasn't just the wild myths of humanity. False depictions in bibles or paintings on church walls. That is, the descriptions written by humans didn't used to be false. The archangels were once truly were the leaders of heaven. They led the other angels like brothers. They were respected. They were revered.

All the angels used to admire their older siblings. They would have followed them to the end, and many did.

"I _am_ tired!" Castiel screamed, a millennium of emotions being held back coming undone. "I watched Michael throw away the words of Father, Gabriel disappeared — he died and you two barely did anything but double down on your actions. And it turns out that he just ran away from it all. And you, _Raphael_. You just allowed it all to happen. You were the ones to first let the Host degrade."

"Yes they make mistakes," He continued. "Yes they - _we_ _'ve_ nearly ended the world because of those mistakes, but they acted that way because they believed in each other, in something, they cared. Of course, between them and what heaven had become, I would choose them, every time."

They weren't trying to hurt him, Castiel realized and he shook. He was angry, yes, but just as Raphael had said earlier _they were both already dead._ Neither of them could kill each other. They could gain nothing by continuing to fight each other. And Raphael would never act in a way that gave them no results.

And yet they still faced each other in opposition.

Or rather, he did. Castiel was the one that started by provoking the other.

He wasn't exactly sure why he kept rambling. Why he was so desperate to explain and make Raphael understand. When both of them had already exhausted all forms of diplomacy. When the other roads they could have taken were already buried by the dust of their dead brethren. They were dead, nothing they did could affect the living.

But the anger emanating from Raphael had truly disappeared, and they seemed to be frozen in time rather than a raging, boiling storm, so maybe - Just maybe - Raphael was considering his words.

"I _am_ sorry for failing heaven, but you did as well."

A silence stretched on between them, as unfathomable as the darkness.

He used to admire Raphael, that bastard.

"And I, at least, haven't given up on fixing my mistakes." He just couldn't help his damn mouth, could he? Well, at least he managed said his piece.

Raphael scoffed. "It's far too late for that…" they finally murmured.

But then slowly, they peeled their talons off him. Castiel closed his eyes and fell down, down, down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hnnnnnn I've had this written for a while now, but i really don't like it. Its just two guys shouting at each other, five feet apart because they hate each other. Unfortunately, the only way i could improve it is if i actually watched the show and put some actual details instead of all the vaguey agnwy stuff they're all shouting about
> 
> Also, did i mention this was supposed to be a oneshot? In anycase, ch3 is already at 3k words. I'm also way more satisfied with that chapter than this one.


	3. Chapter 3

When Castiel opened his eyes slowly. There was a heaviness in them, like he had been asleep for some time and was only just now waking up. But that was ridiculous.

There was no way he was actually awake.

He found himself at the front of a diner. Humans milled about, but no one noticed him. He thought he recognized it, but it could be any one of the hundreds that he had visited, either with the Winchesters or without.

He approached the counter where Raphael — back in his human, male vessel — was already relaxing with a cup of coffee. After a moment's hesitation, Castiel took a seat and a cup of coffee appeared before him.

…He would have preferred some alcohol actually. Unfortunately, he still couldn't figure out how to exert control over these dreams like Raphael was doing, and he doubted that the other would grant any meaningless requests.

Tentatively Castiel took a sip and studied the older angel. Raphael made no more comments about the discussion they just had. For all Castiel knew, what was an instant for him could have been an eternity for the archangel. Time worked differently in here, after all.

In any case, Raphael didn't look like he was going to bring up those topics again.

So he bit his tongue, pushed down the flare of old anger. There were more important things to be thinking about.

With a heavy sigh, he started reviewing what he knew about the Empty. It was a void of nothingness, ruled by a sleeping cosmic being. And also, it was where demons and angels went to after they died, forever trapped in eternal slumber.

At recalling that, he quickly blurted out, "How do I talk to the other angels?"

"It's impossible for you."

Castiel flinched, but then scowled. "How do _you_ do it, then?"

Raphael put down his cup with a soft click on the countertop. "The Empty traps angels and demons alike in their regrets and sorrows in a dream-like state, just as you experienced," he explained. "Normally, gaining consciousness and control over them is not something I would have been able to do."

Castiel nodded. "Only the being that rules this place… " — he paused before saying the name, as if evoking it might summon the entity itself — "the Shadow, should have power here. So how is it that you do too?"

Raphael was hesitant to speak, so Castiel pressed on. "Is it because you're an archangel?" Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. "What about Gabriel? Where is he?"

It was a spark of hope. Why hadn't Castiel thought of him before? Gabriel. Of all the archangels, he was always the most sympathetic to them. If there was some one here who would still be wiling to work with him, it would be the trickster-angel.

"He's not here. He was never here," Raphael said so casually that Castiel knew he wasn't lying. He had no reason to.

Horror clutched at him. Was it because Gabriel had died in a different dimension? But the Empty preceded all of that. It shouldn't matter what dimension one came from or ended in. Everything returned to Nothing in the end.

What were the only other options? The only one that he could think of was that… "He _died_ fighting Michael. Surely he couldn't have somehow…"

"Faked his death?" Raphael raised an eyebrow at him. "He's done it before. Twice, that we know of."

Castiel exhaled a breath he didn't know he was holding. That Gabriel left them tricked them again. Abandoned them to their enemies that he nobly said he would fight against _._ There was a chance, course, that he was trapped in that other dimension, _unable_ rather than _unwilling_ to help.

Except… "He didn't appear to fight the Darkness. He didn't appear to help with anything else," he muttered, mostly to himself, anger starting to rise up again. "He never changed." He downed the cup of coffee. It tasted more bitter than a moment before.

Raphael watched him out of the corner of his eye, before sighing. "And no, being an archangel isn't enough. Even Father doesn't have power here."

"That can't be right. He's brought me back before."

"The first time you died… I killed you right next to Him. He most likely just caught your grace and essence before it could be brought to the Empty. I can easily picture the other times occurring similarly."

"Then _how,_ Raphael," he pleaded desperately. "If even God doesn't have control here, how can you?

And Raphael, finally, _finally_ , relented. "Do you remember how the Empty and the Shadow came into existence?"

Castiel shook his head. "Both existed before anything. 'Before anything was created, there was nothing.' "

"And therein lies the paradox. How can nothing _exist_? And to be a paradox is a painful thing. That is why the Shadow sleeps." He took another sip from his cup. "For even with all the power he has over this domain, its the only thing he has for relief."

Castiel pondered it for a moment. "Then what about us? Our deaths should have brought about our nonexistence. But we're only dreaming, asleep like the Shadow."

Raphael nodded and started to clarify, "It is the same for us. To be truly gone, It would have had erase our existences throughout all of time. Fortunately, Its power over the living is quite limited. So the shadow keeps us asleep. If we were to wake, It would be forced to as well."

"That doesn't explain why _you_ have power here."

Raphael pursed his lips at Castiel's impatience. "Sleeping is such a simple act, and yet its a somewhat adequate solution to the paradox of existing and not at once. Similarly, there are actions can bring us away from that nonexistence and closer to existence."

"And the closer you are to existence…"

"The more I am able to access the power I had when I was alive," Raphael confirms.

"What do I have to do then?" Castiel asks urgently. "To bring myself closer to existence?"

"Castiel, there isn't anything _you_ can do. There isn't anything I can do either," Raphael says quickly to shut down his rising protests. "We're already dead. 'Nothing' has no effect on the living. What we do here has no meaning. Its not up to us."

Castiel just stared at him, so Raphael continued, "The humans had it right when they said that one dies twice — when they die, and when they are forgotten."

"You get your power form the other side," Castiel concludes. "From those that are still alive." But he was still confused. "You're receiving help from our brothers from — "

"No. Not them. There's none of them left on that side that would spare a thought for me," Raphael admitted. "Its humans — their prayers to be exact." So it was the beings that Raphael hated the most that gave him his power here.

"And even with that, what ability I have is limited. Not enough to bring someone back to life." Raphael said slowly, to make sure that Castiel understood that it was pointless to even ask him. "Even with the amount of times that my name is invoked, I only have just enough to keep myself conscious like this."

Castiel blinked. That meant that Raphael wasn't the reason why he was like this (not that Castiel even believed for a moment that he was). In was only in this moment that he stopped to consider how…

Castiel met Raphael's eyes for one quick second. _Figure it out,_ they said.

The only thing that could give them power here was prayer.

Oh. _Oh._

Tears welled up in his eyes. There were only so few who knew his name, and even fewer still who would say it in prayer. "I have to go back." Determination surged through him.

"Still?"

"Did you expect me to change my mind about this?"

Raphael scoffs. At who or what, Castiel doesn't know, but at a closer look, he thought saw a flash of disappointment.

He shook his head and stood up abruptly. He's done wasting time. Sure he has no other leads, but Raphael has already revealed that there was nothing more he could do. "I'm leaving." He didn't wait for a reply and headed out the door.

Stepping out of the diner, Castiel found himself on standing on a cliff overlooking the ocean. To his surprise, he heard Raphael step out after him. He glanced back to see the restaurant was gone, along with any other sign of civilization. Once more, it was just the two of them in the middle of nowhere.

In the distance, a storm was brewing, its dark clouds shifting rapidly into itself. Its as tall as Castiel's true form, and it stretched the length of the horizon.

Castiel wondered if it was part of this memory, or if it was just Raphael being Raphael again.

The angel in question had walked to the edge and was silently staring down into the waves as it rocked against the cliff. Was this his memory, then? Castiel wondered. He was tasting the salt in the air when he realized a change in himself.

Despite the frozen age of his vessel Castiel had felt the years weigh on him. But now he felt a lightness. Youthfulness, more specifically.

Perhaps shouting at Raphael had done some good after all.

Maybe even later, after he figured out how to control his surroundings — his dreams — as Raphael had, and after he learned how to actually put up a fight, they could go at it again, he mused.

But taking another glance around, he realized that there was something else to his newfound youth.

The earth felt raw and wild and untouched. The grass was primitive — no, it couldn't even be called grass but its ancient predecessor — and the air was _pure_ and lacked the excess of pollution Castiel had unconsciously gotten used to.

This was a time far before the emergence of humanity. Castiel marveled at it.

Meanwhile, Raphael seemed to be on a mission, as he suddenly started striding away and down the slope. For a lack of a better option, Castiel silently followed him to an ashy beach. Might as well learn what was so important that Raphael had deemed it worthy to dream of.

Raphael walked straight into the water until it lapped at his heels, unbothered by his vessel's formal attire. Castiel stayed on the shore, where his slacks and shoes could stay dried for just a little while longer.

The storm loomed towards them.

Castiel wondered what Raphael was looking for, and he got an answer a moment later when a familiar-looking fish was spat out by the waves a few meters from him.

It flopped around uselessly in the sand.

He eyed it in suspicion.

It continued to flop some more.

"I thought this was your memory," he blurted out in surprise.

"It is." Like lions circling prey, the two of them approached it. Back then — the time at which this dream took place — Castiel even imagine the big plans for for this little fish.

It gills opened and closed, grasping for breath, for life.

And then without another word, Raphael lifted his foot, and stomped on it.

Castiel could only stare at him in shock.

Raphael grinded his foot down, as if to make a point. "I concede to you on one thing," he said, "Freedom."

The fish stopped moving under his foot.

"I don't understand."

In the distance, Castiel heard the faintest sound of thunder. The storm would soon be upon them.

"You attempted to convince the Host before," Raphael explained, staring him in the eye, "that angels as well as humans should be given free will."

Castiel has done the impossible it seems. For Raphael to say something like this.

"What made you change your mind?" He asks, a bit bitterly. If Raphael noticed his tone, he didn't comment on it. Castiel just can't help but think of how his attempts at teaching the rest of the angels about free will has led to nothing but death.

"Experiencing it myself. Both freedom and free will."

His episode of wallowing in self pity stutters a bit at that. "When would you have gotten the time to…?" He asks out.

"Do you remember what I said about the endless cycle you and your humans were trapped in?" Raphael seemed suddenly restless. Angry in a different way than their fight earlier. "If it really was God's will to save the world, why do you all keep failing?"

"He saved us from the Darkness!" There's something in Raphael's eyes that made Castiel think that he's closer to seeing the real Raphael than he was when he was looking straight into Raphael's true form earlier.

"He saved himself," Raphael hissed, "And left as soon as he was no longer in danger.

Castiel feels like a conspirator, because he can't deny it. He could only think about having to fight Lucifer after all that was over, about how he never had a chance to even talk with his father and the Being never tried even though he was right there, being used as a meat suit for the once-favorite son.

At how he wasn't caught and saved this time around.

Or the rest of his siblings, at any time at all.

"I remember that you said that he was dead."

"I _hoped_ he was." Castiel couldn't tell what made him shiver: the howling winds or those words?

"Raphael," he asks slowly, "Why did you try so hard to start the apocalypse?"

Raphael smirked at him, like he was laughing at an inside joke that Castiel wasn't a part of. "One can never be sure of what He wants. And as the creator of everything, only _His_ will shall be done."

" _It can't be stopped."_ Gabriel had said once, a long time ago. _"I just want it to be over."_

"All that I've done were nothing but for His last words before left. Can you really blame me for not believing that he expected us to do something different?"

The sky darkened. The dark clouds had reached them.

"Father," he whispers so softly that Castiel could barely hear it over the howling winds, "a the being of creation, has no dominion over non-existance."

The temperature around them dropped rapidly.

"Your sorry attempt at playing god was truly pathetic, in comparison." With that, Raphael broke away, striding back into the ocean. The tide was rising.

Then, one giant drop from the sky fell onto to the earth.

And the dams broke, unleashing the rain, lighting, and thunder upon them.

Water wrecked water, and in that moment, Castiel knew with every fiber of his being that for all his knowledge earlier, Raphael never even _tried_ to escape this cursed place.

And Raphael faced the wind and the rain. But not peacefully, Castiel thinks. Not in the way that Raphael is bared, facing the battering winds. Not in how the rain carves rivers down his face. Not in how he watches each lighting strike with a solemn face as it strikes the earth and paints shadows against the wind. Not in the thousands of angelic essences, whom Raphael could glimpse in their dreams but untouchable in the ways that it truly mattered. And not in the dying breaths of a heaven left behind.

It was not peace. It was graceless, bitter defeat of a once unbeatable general.

Castiel hated it.

At least the others had gone down with fists swinging.

Raphael had crumbled and _begged_ at the end.

He clenched his fists. It may have been enough for the archangel, but not for him.

Even if Raphael was right, there was no way that Castiel could just give up on family like he had.

And in his dissatisfaction and renewed determination, he nearly missed it.

A voice carried by the wind.

No.

It was a prayer.

_Castiel_ , it said.

He stood up.

_Castiel._

It wasn't Dean or Sam or any other voice he knew but it was familiar all the same.

_Castiel, if you can hear me._

He could, just barely, over the howling winds.

_It_ _'s me, Jack._

Raphael was listening too, watching him with a tilted head.

_I-I don_ _'t know if I'm doing this right, but I saw Dean doing it, and Sam said I should too._

It pulled at him. It restarted his human heart and sent it into a frenzy. "JACK!" He screamed at the sky.

_We had a funeral for you._

He ran towards the voice, up the cliff again, to the center of the storm.

_Oh, I_ _'m with Sam and Dean now._

_It was a bit rough at the beginning, but they_ _'re taking care of me. Teaching me._

That's… good. That's really good. Castiel knows that Sam and Dean didn't exactly believe that Jack would be anything but the devil's son, but seems like Jack has won them over.

As Castiel knew he would. He couldn't be more _proud._

_I wish you were here too._

Castiel does too. He reaches the utmost top of the hill again and can't go any further up. Can't get any closer to his son.

_I miss you._

His words striked at his heart.

_I love you._

And as suddenly as it came, the prayer fades off, ripping him to shreds in the process, leaving nothing but a husk.

Castiel crumbled to the earth, quivering. When he pushed himself up again, Raphael was standing over him with a blank expression, the world still thundering around them.

"What a strong prayer," Raphael murmured. "That is not the prayer of a normal human... nor an angel."

Tears were still pouring down Castiel's face. Jack's voice was already gone, but still it tugged _painfully_ at his heart, urging him to go past the horizon. "He's a Nephilim…" He chocked out.

Raphael blinked in surprise, before a contemplative look passed over his features. "Ah, the devil's spawn…" he murmured to himself, his mouth pursed. "He sounds a bit older than what I was expecting."

"I need to get back to him. I promised him I would protect him."

"You promised _that_ to the son of your worst enemy?"

"Jack is more than that!" He yelled over the surging storm. He was already soaked to the bone. If he had enough in him left to care, he would have been surprised to see that Raphael was also in a similar state.

"Is he who you died for?" Raphael shook his head. "You will never learn, will you? That your actions bring you nothing."

"No, Raphael, it's you that still doesn't understand. It doesn't matter what happens to me. I do it for them, not myself. And even now, I will get back to them no matter what it takes."

Raphael eyed him, and considered. "Then I suppose that for just this once, you get your wish." He raised a hand up at the sky, as if to catch the raging wind.

And suddenly, the sky directly above them opened up, letting light shine through. Wind and rain swirled around them, but no longer battered them. Out of the reflection in Raphael's eyes, Castiel saw lighting strike in every direction, each flash quartering the world.

Raphael approached him, gripped his chin with stony hands and _looked_. Castiel was studied, as Raphael's eyes roamed over every crease and hair, over the curve of his wings and each feather. But there was no judgment nor evil intent there, only the simple desire to impress his figure into memory.

"What are you doing?" Castiel asked. Raphael put his hand over Castiel's heart, and Castiel could feel the power cursing there.

"Nothing much," Raphael drawled, "Just experimenting, on what the prayer of being that should have never existed could do." He hummed, a low buzz of electricity that turned into the booming thunder.

"But, why?" He asked in shock, realizing that Raphael was going to _help him_. For some one who searching so desperately to escape, Castiel suddenly felt hesitant to go. "You think that going back there is nothing but suffering."

"I do." Raphael agreed. "So just think of this as payback, my revenge. Suffer long brother, for each mistake you've made, for each angel dead at your hand, for your humans, and for that little nephew of ours… Suffer for as long as you wish in the living world."

"Is..is it enough?" Castiel choked out. He gripped Raphael's arm as power surged into him. His muscles twitched and his legs felt weak, but his heart was lurching forward as always.

"Not enough to push you all the way, but enough to keep you awake. Even against the Shadow's power."

Castiel nodded. So He would still have to tangle with the Shadow. But that was something he could figure out himself.

And as unconsciousness overtook him, he blurted out his goodbye: "I'll pray! Not just for you but for all our brethren!" Raphael paused, before answering him with a smile, so that it was not darkness that Castiel fell to once more, but the gradually dazzling eyes of his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus:
> 
> Some Time Later: (14x08 Byzantium)
> 
> The Shadow and Castiel face off as Jack and Kelly look on.
> 
> Castiel: Take me- Take me instead. I'm the one you want. I'm the one who woke you up.
> 
> Shadow: You? You're already mine. When you die, you'll come back to me. But if you'll agree, I will go now, and I will go willingly.
> 
> Castiel: Deal.
> 
> Shadow: Oh no, you haven't even heard what the deal is yet. No, no, you see, I want you to suffer. I want you to go back to your world and then forget about this and I. But when you finally find your happiness, after you've worked so hard to attain it, that's when I'll come to drag you away.
> 
> Castiel takes a moment to think, and then can barely keep the smirk off his face. After all, to live on earth to suffer, endlessly, cyclically. He wasn't on Earth to find his own happiness. He's already been taught before that the only way he could stop suffering is to return to the Empty. To his waiting brethren. 
> 
> If the Empty is waiting for the day he stops suffering, then its going to be a long time. 
> 
> Castiel: I accept.
> 
> \-----
> 
> Wooh I did it...It took me a while but I finished something!! I also updated the other chapters just a bit. There were some other stuff that I wanted to add, but I realized I couldn't fit them in... so another story maybe?


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